


Stop Motion

by hokshi



Category: Free!
Genre: Angst, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Humiliation, Jealousy, Pining, Reader-Insert, Smut, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-06-20 04:57:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15526527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hokshi/pseuds/hokshi
Summary: Hiyori will exploit every part of you, and you're going to say, "Yes, Daddy."The fuccboi!au that you know you want, but will never admit.





	1. magic words

**Author's Note:**

> i may very well end up regretting posting this so early before i've actually written that much, but hiyori's passive-aggressive ass got a bitch WEAK AND PANTING. bless episode four for bringing us this godly yan for us to hate. but anyway, smut, angst, catching feelings for your fuck buddy, and also you're nothing but a useless slut!!! please read on if you're going to put on hiyori's collar and join this slave house with me :) 
> 
>  
> 
> ~~also i finally brought out the daddy kink for this one, he's got such POWER over me~~

_ ‘im coming over’ _

 

Your nose wrinkles, but your heart flips when you read the message. As much as you want to be displeased that this guy you’ve been sleeping with thinks he has the right to declare that he will come over to most likely fuck you upside down, you feel a pleasurable shudder course your spine in anticipation. 

 

_ ‘lol what’s the magic word’ _ you type back, after waiting the allotted minute you’ve somehow deemed to make yourself seem not desperate. 

 

_ ‘im outside’ _ is his reply seconds later. 

 

And there’s a knock on the door to prove it. 

 

Fuck. 

 

It takes all of your willpower not to scramble out of your chair and run to the door like a lapdog coming to greet its owner after being left alone all day. Quickly pulling open your closet door to check yourself out in the mirror, you wipe away an eye booger but decide to keep your hair in the messy bun. It’s not your hottest look, but better than being super obvious with floofed up hair that dies down two minutes later. 

 

You open the door to almost-six feet of fine. Despite his rather coarse text, he has a bag of food in his hands, and sweet words on his tongue, “Hey beautiful, you eat yet?” 

 

Woof. 

 

“No.” You didn’t even realize it was getting late. When you turn to your dresser clock, you see that it is indeed approaching that time. 

 

“Then how about we eat together. I brought Chinese.” he lifts his bag that likely has your favorite dish inside. 

 

Minutes later, you’re sitting on your bed with your back to the wall while Hiyori takes over your desk chair. You chat over your takeout boxes and the beers that he also brought over. He’s as charming and sweet as ever, grooming you as his little pet, and you know exactly what’s coming. 

 

He hangs around and lets you finish the bulk of your essay draft before he eventually gets bored of scrolling through his phone and exchanging short words between long pauses. “Hey, come over here.” he beckons to you with a change in his voice. 

 

You turn around to see him sitting casually on your bed, like he has been for the past thirty minutes, and he doesn’t even have to lift a finger to get you on his lap. You made sure to take two mints after finishing your food, so you put some feeling into your kiss when your arms wrap around his neck. 

 

It’s not long before he’s grinding into your hips and your clothes are off. And at some point, he’s got you bent over with your face in the bed and screaming for him to take you to heaven, “Oh, don’t stop! Agh!”

 

“Why are your legs spread so wide, whore? This not enough for you? How much cock do you need before you’re finally sated? Fucking filth.” he growls from above, thrusting slowly. Far too slowly. “Were you just pretending to be good earlier, so I’d give you more dick? Thought your good grades would get you a reward?” 

 

“Yes, please.” You don’t even know how else to respond. 

 

“You sure kept me waiting though.” he bends over to press his chest on your back and run his hand up your torso and over your neck to glide two fingers into your open, panting mouth. “You really think you deserve cock after keeping me? I’m a busy man.” 

 

“Mmm thorrs ddthy.” You try to speak and suck on his fingers at the same time. 

 

Hiyori pulls his fingers out of your mouth and slides them back down to finger your clit, “What was that, now?” 

 

“I-I’m sorry.” 

 

“I’m sorry, what?” he demands, his voice hardening. And god, if that doesn’t make you squeeze around him. 

 

“I’m sorry, daddy. I’m so sorry for making you wait.” you close your eyes and press your forehead into the sheets, hating and loving the power he has over you. 

 

“I’ll accept your apology, if you tell me why you’re such a fucking slut.” A pinch at your clit, and your hips jolt against his hand, making his cock shift inside of you. He’s all but stopped thrusting at this point, and you’re fucking desperate for him to move again. You  _ need  _ him to move again. “Go on, tell me. Tell me whose cock you want so badly that you’re willing to spread your legs this far apart. And why you want it.” 

 

Your brain isn’t even working right now, how are you supposed to come up with an answer? Fuck, can he just… fucking hammer you already?? You let out a small whimper after a bit of silence and he gives you a surprise jolt with his hips, “Was’matter? Cock got your tongue?” 

 

“Daddy… I can’t… it’s too hard.” You whine, “Too… embarrassing.” 

 

“Oh?” he humors you, but he doesn’t sound amused at all, “So you’re not just a whore, but you’re also stupid? Then tell me why I should waste my time on you. Daddy doesn’t like ‘em dumb.” he pulls out with a threatening intent that causes you to scream out.

 

“No!! No! Daddy, no,  _ please _ !” you shamelessly push your ass back against him, desperate to keep him inside of you. He can’t just leave you like this again. He’s fucking done it before, and you had to angry-masturbate for a week. 

 

But it’s too late. He’s pulled out, leaving you completely empty and lifeless, without cause or meaning. “No, no… please…” you literally start sobbing into your blankets, like a crybaby. This is beyond humiliating, “Please, please…” 

 

He isn’t even touching your back anymore. He’s barely touching any part of you. His hands are leaving your clit too, and you don’t have enough strength to bring yourself up while you’re sobbing with your whole body like this. The only touch he leaves on you is--

 

Smack.

 

“Ah!” you cry out, tears rolling down your face. 

 

“Stop begging, whore.” Frozen solid. His voice is just that cold. 

 

Smack.

 

“I gave you a chance to apologize properly, and all you’re doing is crying for forgiveness. Use your damn words.” This smack is particularly fleeting, but painful. It leaves an imprint of hot pain welling on your ass. “Dumb slut.” 

 

You cry and sob for another several seconds, just taking the slaps to your ass, asking God if you’ll really ever reach salvation when you’re being tortured like this. Until finally, your sobs calm enough through the numbing pain for you to muster enough voice to say, “D-Daddy, I’m so sorry…” 

 

The rain of smacks stills and there’s a pregnant pause before he lets his voice thaw just a bit, “I’m listening.” 

 

“I-I want your cock… s-so bad. So, so bad.” you choke, letting out another sob when he lays his hand calmly on your back. A sign that he’ll relent on the paddling for tonight. “Every time I think about your cock, I just… can’t help myself. I want you inside me so bad that…” 

 

You pause, cringing so hard at what you need to say to get what you want. “So bad that what?” Hiyori reminds you that he’s a patient man.

 

“S-so bad that… I open up to have you inside me as fast as possible. Please…” you end with a whisper of a plea, wondering if they even hold any power anymore. 

 

“There we go. Now that wasn’t so hard, was it? Even dumb sluts like you can get what you want if you tell us properly.” he pets you, knocking you down yet another peg. In this moment, you fucking hate him, you hate his arrogant, dominating ass. But for every bit that you hate him for, your body loves twice as much. Your psyche trips you up and tells you to get more of him, to sweep him up into your system again and again, like a drug. 

 

You can’t stop. 

 

And finally, you feel that familiar heat sweeping against your folds again, making your breath hitch in anticipation. “Here, go on and tell me one more time, what is it that a slut like you needs?” he leans down close to your ear again, hinting that he’ll give in soon. As long as you’re obedient, you’ll get what you want, soon. 

 

You let out a pathetic whimper before sighing out, “Cock…”

 

“What was that again?” he pushes in slowly, slowly slowly slowly. 

 

“I… I need cock.” 

 

“Louder.” he demands, and his voice flips a switch that sends shivers through your nervous system. He gives you a hard thrust that you weren’t expecting, fucking the answer out of your mouth. 

 

“Cock! Daddy, cock, cock, cock!!” you’re sobbing again. This is fucking dehumanizing, but you could really care less because Hiyori is finally,  _ finally _ , FINALLY driving his cock into you like you fucking wanted.  _ Yes _ .

 

“Fuckin’ right, you need cock. Whose cock?” he grunts as he smacks his hips against yours and drives his cock in and out of your pussy like a jackhammer. 

 

“Yours!! I want daddy’s cock.” you manage to sputter and choke out as he rams you into your long awaited and hard-earned peak. You spill yourself all over his still-moving shaft and let him drive another mini-high out of you until he’s finished. 

 

He moans into a boneless pile on top of you when he’s fucked you through his own high, mixing his sweat with yours and resting his weight carelessly on top of you. Your face is still pressed into the bed, but you’re too fucked out to care. That was way too intense for such a spontaneous visit. 

 

You tell him so when you’re both finished cleaning up and he’s about to leave, but he just responds with an easy laugh. The one that always charms your panties right off. “Couldn’t help it, you looked so cute studying so hard. But it was taking too much of your attention away from me.” he tips your chin up with his fingers and leans in close, “So I just played around a little, wondering who you’d study so hard for. Excuse the self-insert.” he closes off with a kiss. A soft, fleeting one. The one that signals his leave. The one that you hate. 

 

He leaves in good spirits, and you send him off the same way, acting like you didn’t mind that he just used you like a toy and tossed you aside once he was finished playing around. You continue to go about acting like he’s just ‘some guy you’re sleeping with.’ You act like you let him fuck you like a sex slave because it’s your kink, and not because you’d do anything for him. 

 

You act like you don’t want Tono Hiyori as much as you truly do. 

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


“Hey, are you listening?” 

 

No, quite honestly. You’re not listening. Because the cafe that you just stepped into with your friend is already inhabited by none other than the man of your wet dreams. You’re wondering if you should brake and make a sudden turn when you’ve already stepped inside, but both Hiyori and the waiter have already caught sight of you. 

 

When Hiyori meets your shell-shocked gaze from his seat at the booth, he just gives you a kind smile and wave while your friend answers the waiter so he can lead you to a table. You just melt into a smile as naturally as you can and return the wave before you make to follow the waiter to the table. Not before his friend turns around to see who Hiyori is greeting. 

 

You recognize that gloomy-looking guy. Hiyori is with him pretty often around school, chatting him up and smiling wide and sweet. He’s in one of your classes, although you’ve never said a word to the guy. He’s cute, but he keeps to himself and looks like he hates the world over half the time. Which you get, but it makes you wonder how he’s friends with an angel-faced snake like Hiyori. 

 

Your friend finally gets your attention back when she slaps at the menu and asks what you want. After deciding and ordering, you try to resume normal conversation as you had before, pointedly ignoring Hiyori’s direction and laser-focusing your gaze on your friend. Although not surprisingly, she’s kind of creeped out. 

 

“What’s got you so on edge? Was it that guy you said hi to earlier? How do you know him?” She subtly turns her neck around to check him out for a second before returning her gaze to you. “He’s cute.” 

 

“I uh… He’s just… a guy I see around. Sort of.” Once the images of Hiyori standing above you with his cockteasing and echoes of his ruthless voice flash across your mind, you find it hard to explain without outing yourself. 

 

“Really? Why didn’t you go and talk a little more with him then?” 

 

“It’s… he’s not… we’re not exactly…” How can you explain that you’re on a body language basis of communication? 

 

“Oh. Wait,  _ oh _ . Okay, so you guys are just messing around?” she guesses.

 

You hesitate. “Well… Yeah…” Why is it so hard to answer that question? Of course you’re just messing around! At least, that’s the kind of pace you and Hiyori had set at the beginning. You didn’t expect to fucking see him shred water at the swim meet you went to in support of a friend who was cheering on her boyfriend, let alone capture your heart on top of your pussy that he had already laid claim to. 

 

You ran into him some time after the meet, since your friend asked you to wait with her for the swim team to be let out. He had his eyes on you while he was in conversation with a team member, who at the time, was asking what he’d do to celebrate his good time for the race. 

 

“I’ll be busy, but I’ll definitely be celebrating.” He had replied casually, glancing discreetly but intently at you. 

 

And that evening, you were the one who felt like the winner, setting records. You don’t remember how many times you came that night when he told you to show up at a random love hotel later on. The way he kissed you that night was a little different, a bit gentler than usual because of racer’s high, perhaps. It was sweet, and you feel the pit growing deeper. The pit in which you would sink further and deeper into Hiyori and want to stay in his darkness forever. 

 

Which is way longer than you both agreed to. But really, you couldn’t help it. You found yourself visiting swim practices a few times with your friend after class just for a chance to catch Hiyori shirtless or in the pool. You’d never say anything to each other, but he’d always give some kind of hint that he knew you were there, watching him. And you watched him a fucking lot. 

 

The more you watched him interact with his teammates, particularly the gloomy-looking one (who was surprisingly the best swimmer among the team, actually), the more you wanted that genuine smile and affection for yourself. Craving such sincerity in the type of relationship you contracted with Hiyori was a no-go though. You could call him daddy, but not a friend. You could beg for love and affection, but only if he was telling you to. You could warn him about these feelings you’ve caught, but he wouldn’t let you on his dick anymore. 

 

It’s a restrictive situation you’re stuck in, and everything you know you shouldn’t be wanting, you’ve come to long for. It hurts just a little more every time Hiyori leaves you breathless and spattered in cum in your room, longing for the warm embrace you only see him share with Ikuya when he’s just closed the door on you. 

 

Yet as aching as the pain is, you can’t turn yourself off from him. You love the way he takes complete and utter control of your mind and body when he’s fucking you stupid, love the proud and smug expression on his face when he’s finished painting your naked body and face with his special shade of white, love how hard he makes you work for just a kiss or a word of praise from him. He’s so fucking hot and nasty underneath that sweet smile, and you just fucking fly off every time you see him in public and remember that you’ve seen that other hidden side of him in full screen. 

 

You intentionally distract yourself for so long that you actually don’t realize that he’s left the restaurant by the time you get your food. It was only when you turned your head to let the waiter set down the food when you saw that Hiyori’s table was empty, and you tried not to notice your heart sinking into your stomach at the disappointment that he disappeared without some sort of goodbye. 

 

Not that you were entitled to one, or that he even needed to acknowledge you in the first place with a hello. But the fact that he did wave hello, that he did choose to give you even a speck of attention makes your heart inflate in joy. Makes it inflate so much that it feels like a balloon about to pop out of your chest to be left in a tiny, unusable mess. He treats you like a toy, but you would still give anything to be his favorite. 

 

You wonder how long you can keep this up, vying and begging for his attention while pretending it’s just for roleplay. He’s a smart guy, and he’d catch on immediately if you showed any sign of weakness or genuine hope in your eyes when you look at him. So you have to act detached, like you don’t wish every second that you hear from him or get fucked by him that he’d give you a sign that he cares about you. Like he doesn’t cloud your thoughts for half of the day when you’re waiting for him to text you. Like you aren’t his complete pet that he can toy with and leave alone whenever he so pleases. 

 

How long, indeed. 

  
  



	2. detached possessiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you miss him...

He doesn’t contact you for two weeks. 

 

It’s like this sometimes. There are times when he fucks you every day for a week, and times when he just forgets about your existence for a while. He knows you can’t do a thing about it, because he just texts you when he wants, and pretty much conditioned you into answering him within a few minutes like a personal maid.

  
  
  
  


_ “You know what’ll happen if you keep daddy waiting for too long, don’t you?” _

  
  
  
  


You’ll never forget. That weekend you had only answered him a few hours after you had finished all your classes and gone straight to a group project meeting. He wasn’t happy about being kept waiting for an answer, and showed up to your dorm room the same night you had texted back. 

 

Hiyori had fucked and fingered and choked and made you suck him off for over an hour,  _ without letting you come _ . He had edged you that entire fucking evening, came all over and inside of your body, without letting you do the same. Each time you came close, he would just pull away and mutter another insult about how you’re a slut who doesn’t deserve it. 

 

It was worst experience of your entire life, in the best way possible. You were so sensitive and desperate by the time he had had enough and pulled his pants on to leave that you had fallen to your knees on the floor, begging him to just please finish you off. But he only kicked you off of his leg and left with a noncommittal comment, “Make sure to answer me when I call you.” 

 

Still brings shivers to your spine when you think about it. After he had left, you were wracked in sobs and wound up so tight that you just slipped your own fingers inside yourself in a poor imitation of Hiyori’s dick. Your imagination was enough for the sensitivity your body had gone through though, and you had finally come with a flick across your clit like an avalanche of sexual tension falling and crashing down a large mountain. 

 

It was haunting; traumatic, even. But it was so unforgettable that you never let a single notification go unnoticed again. He uses that control over you to keep you guessing when he’ll contact you again, even if it’s weeks later. Even if you call and call message him again and again, he only answers when he wants to, and you’re left waiting and aching for him.

 

So here you are again, going aimlessly about your life, wishing you had Hiyori’s cock in you once more, missing his abusive tongue and insulting domination over you like a whore gone mad. Your sigh sounds especially pathetic when you slip your phone back into your pocket after checking to see that it was just a phone bill notification.

 

Your disappointment brings you over to the refrigerated section of the supermarket to scope out which ice cream is going to nurse your lonely body and sobbing heart tonight. Someone else is doing the same thing, and when you step beside the tall boy at the fridge door, you recognize that mop of black hair. 

 

“Go ahead,” he yields the fridge to you first, looking like he’s still contemplating on his decision. Yup, that gloomy expression and quiet, miserable look on his face is unmistakable. This is the guy Hiyori is always hanging out with, the one who you see Hiyori always smiling for. 

 

Man… what a dream that would be, to get all of Hiyori’s undivided attention. You don’t even know this guy and already you find yourself drowning in envy of him. 

 

You blink before moving in on the pint of Neopolitan ice cream on the shelf, “Aren’t we in a class together?” you blurt out as you close the refrigerator door. 

 

“Hmm? Uh, which one?” he looks up at you and concentrates a little harder this time, looking for a way to recognize you. 

 

“Argumentative writing.” you offer. 

 

“Ah, I see.” It doesn’t sound like he recognizes you at all. 

 

“Getting ice cream to cry about the newest assignment the professor has posted?” you attempt to joke. He doesn’t seem the type to offer much in a first conversation.

 

“No, I-- Wait, what new assignment?” Ooh, you actually managed to make him look a little surprised. His eyebrows furrow the smallest fraction at the unfamiliarity of your question.

 

You chuckle lightly, “Guess that means you haven’t seen it yet. She posted it a couple of hours ago on the class forum.”

 

Actually, that confused expression is pretty cute. He’s blinking now in thought, taking out his phone as if to check, “Seriously?” he seems to mutter more to himself. 

 

“Yeah, the number of pages increased too.” you half-sigh and half-groan, “Just after we turned in that last one too…” 

 

“Damn it…” he curses gently and puts his phones away after confirming. 

 

“You do okay on the last one?” 

 

“Eh…” he gives you another noncommittal answer. “Okay.”

 

“Same here,” you sigh, tilting your head to the side, “I think it’s because I chose to use fairy tales as my argument examples. Because I chose a concept of second chances for my argument, and I used stories like  _ The Little Mermaid _ and  _ The Adventures of Pinocchio _ . But I totally thought that I’d get higher marks because I used the original stories instead of the contemporary works.” 

 

For some reason, the guy seems to falter on his feet, “... ‘The Little Mermaid’?” he mutters.

 

“You like that story?” you ask, “Me too, I thought it’d be the perfect example. Like you know how everyone focuses on how she puts herself through so much pain in order to find love and interpret it as ‘love is blind’ or something, not worth it because she eventually dies in the end. Which is why I prefer the original version, in which her selflessness actually earns her a soul that’s bound to the earth.

 

“People tend to forget that what the mermaid truly wanted was an eternal soul, not necessarily love. With all the romanticism between her and the prince, there’s too much focus on how the prince made the wrong decision, or how the mermaid jumped into this life for a young man she didn’t even know. But in the end, even though love was a part of her journey, killing the prince wouldn’t have given her what she truly wanted. Like, it’s not a story about punishment for making dumb, adolescent decisions, it’s a story about second chances.

 

“Or that’s how I interpreted it, at least.” You realize you’re ranting now, to a guy whose name you don’t actually even know, “Sorry about that. It’s just that I actually worked pretty hard on that paper… I can’t believe I got only B-grade marks…” you pout bitterly. 

 

“Second chances…” Ikuya mutters to himself, looking like he’s in deep thought about something. You study his thoughtful expression for a moment before he finally lifts his head to look you straight in the eyes for the first time, “Do you think--”

 

“Ikuya! There you are.” 

 

Your blood is flash-frozen in your veins. It’s all you can do not to whip your head around to finally lay your eyes on the pretty boy who’s been haunting your mind for the past two weeks. You curse god for making him as attractive as he is, hiding his ugly sexual deviance underneath that pretty smile. 

 

“And look who else is here.” he’s smiling at you, but there’s a threat hiding behind it if you’ve ever seen one. “Do you know each other?” 

 

You find yourself reluctant to answer. There’s no reason that he should prevent you from having a simple conversation with someone, but you’re also afraid of how he could possibly punish you for saying the wrong thing. After another quiet second, you settle for, “We’re in a class together.” 

 

“Is that so?” Hiyori hums, on guard. It’s like a harsh stalemate has been erected between you like a wall. The rigid standoff stretches on for another few seconds, but Hiyori lets his smile slide across his face, “Well, anyway, we should get going, right Ikuya?” he turns to put an affection hand on his friend’s shoulder. 

 

And that’s that. You internally sigh at the lack of reaction in seeing you. You suppose you aren’t entitled to a warm greeting or anything, but your heart still wallows in jealousy as you watch Hiyori direct a smile towards Ikuya that actually holds a splash of genuinity in it. What you would do to even feel a brush of his hand against you at this moment. 

 

You’re making yourself out like a dog waiting for an affectionate petting from its master, and your conscience reprimands you for such a deprecating desire. But your body and heart ache strongly for just a teaspoon of Hiyori’s attention right now. Would he please at least just… look at you like he misses you? Or something?

 

“Wait--” 

 

To both your and Hiyori’s surprise, Ikuya’s voice is the one that pipes up. “Ikuya…?” Hiyori asks curiously. 

 

“Uhm… what was your name?” Seems like he took his time deciding to ask that question first. You’re surprised, because inquiring your name probably means he wants a chance to talk to you longer or more in-depth, doesn’t it? 

 

Nevertheless, you offer your name, as is the appropriate thing to do when someone asks. Ikuya returns the favor, so now you can formally label him with a name instead of referring to him as ‘Hiyori’s gloomy friend.’ “About… about the Littl… The last paper. Could you send it to me?”

 

“You want to read mine?” you raise an eyebrow. Well, just because he’s an athlete doesn’t mean he can’t be diligent in his studies. But what will reading your supposedly B-grade paper do for him? Maybe he wants some reference material for his next essay? 

 

“Sure, but…” you slowly pull out your phone, “Like I said, the professor didn’t give me any super high marks on it. I don’t know how much it would help you.” 

 

“It’s fine, I just want to read it. If that’s okay with you.” he adds quietly, his gaze falling down again in his usually gloomy stupor. 

 

Beside Ikuya, Hiyori is making a face. Once of confusion and slight disapproval, but it disappears just as quickly as he keeps a sharp eye on Ikuya as he pulls out his own phone to send his contact information to you through infrared. You don’t miss the guarded suspicion in Hiyori’s eyes when he directs them back at you. 

 

How terrible is it that that look makes you shiver? In pure pleasure. Finally,  _ finally _ , he’s paying you a sliver of attention. Perhaps not the best attention, because it seems that he deems Ikuya’s interest in you and/or your essay a threat to his precious friend, but attention regardless. 

 

Ikuya clears his throat and thanks you before turning to quickly grab an ice cream from the fridge and leave with Hiyori. The bespectacled man walks on, but not before glancing back at you with another expressionless, yet loaded look. 

 

_ Say something _ , you urge.  _ Anything _ . You’re dying to hear his voice directed at you. His growling commands and acidic insults have been plaguing you since the last time he fucked you mad, and you genuinely, truly miss his domineering presence and body on yours. 

 

But yet again, he leaves you without a word, the dismissive turn of his head like a whip to the face. And you’re left alone again, your entire body cold, and a pint of ice cream melting in your basket. 

  
  


*

  
  


Another week. 

 

You’re worried that you’re actually going to go dry at this point. You are in such desperate need of dick that you are contemplating visiting the swim team’s practice on your own to outright ask him. Totally not your style, but really, you haven’t been able to go a day without masturbating to a memory of Hiyori having or insulting you since that run-in at the grocery market. 

 

Your chest deflates quite a bit from how big your sigh is. The glow of your laptop screen drops a shade after a few minutes of idleness, and your motivation to finish your essay outline dies a little with the brightness. Swirling your finger on the trackpad to reawaken your laptop, you sit up again and reach for your cafe latte. When you look up as you take a sip, you meet eyes with another customer at the cafe.

 

He looks a little flustered to have gotten caught, but smiles sheepishly anyway. Cute. Maybe he’s been watching you for a while, but he seems kind of shy. You doubt that he would try to approach you and ask you out today, but maybe if he ran into your once or twice more here, he’d give it a try. He’d probably come to sit with you if you waved him over. Hiyori has left you high and dry for almost a month, and you’re just about ready to pounce on the next willing victim. 

 

Funny, because you never used to be this sexually depraved before Hiyori. Somehow, he managed to wrangle and collar you as his pet, and make you like it. He hasn’t once left you not wanting more from him, and going like that for months has left you sexually addicted and craving emotional intimacy that he won’t provide you. Do you really have to just sit here and take this sexual deprivation? 

 

No, you don’t. You could have that cute boy across the cafe in your bed tonight if you really wanted to. He’d take you down in one thrust because you’ve been so wound up for the past few weeks, and probably get a huge stroke to his ego. He’d probably want to see you again and sleep with you regularly. You could give him that hope, that reward. He’s right there, and you so could. You offer him a smile back, and a small flush travels into his face. Most definitely, you could have him. 

 

“Who you smiling at?” 

 

But you won’t. 

 

These arms that wrap possessively around your chest were almost lost in your memories in the time you’ve spent away from them, but they’re absolutely unmistakable. Hiyori’s cologne mixed with the fresh smell of pool chlorine swarms you. The way his hands drag down your arms to your stomach and stop at your center between the tops of your thighs rushes your body like a drug, your blood swirls in your veins and your nerves strike at every end of your body. 

 

“No one.” you reply obediently, placing your own needy hands on top of Hiyori’s biceps that are draped around your shoulders. 

 

Oh god, you love this. He’s hugging you from behind, greeting you almost like an affectionate boyfriend. You want to moan just from this relief bursting from his touch after all these weeks away from you. You want to throw yourself on him right immediately now,  _ now _ . 

 

You gasp. His lips on are your ear, nipping and sucking lightly on the tip of it. Your weight collapses against his chest and the back of the armchair you’re sitting in. The small whine escapes from your throat before you even realize it had formed. Your eyelids flutter closed before you will yourself to hold them open again. 

 

“Y-You haven’t replied to me.” you make an attempt to sound perturbed by his sudden appearance, pretending like you haven’t been waiting for him to show up in your life all this time. 

 

His chuckle is short, more of an amused snort, “You think you get to decide when I choose to see you?” 

 

“Well…” you trail off, gasping once again when Hiyori slips a finger down into your elastic shorts to brush against your clit. Sparks are flying behind your eyelids, and your neck is arching back onto his shoulder helplessly. You have to bite hard down on your lip to keep a whimper from escaping into the cafe. 

 

“Sweetie, if you want to call the shots, why don’t you give it a try?” He presses his finger down hard on your clit, and you can feel the skin on your lip breaking. “I won’t make any promises on what’ll happen to you afterwards, though.” 

 

_ Oh god _ , oh fuck… he’s starting to slide his hand deeper into your shorts, his finger is sliding right into you. When did you become that wet? Have you been this damp the entire time?

 

“Feels like you missed me. Is that right, princess?” Hiyori coos into your ear as he curls a finger inside of you, getting right at your g-spot because of his perfect angle hanging over your body. 

 

“Y-yes…” you breathe back, unable to stop your body from reacting to his touch. Yes, you know you’re still in a public establishment with other customers around, and that that boy who was smiling at you earlier might still be looking, but maybe this armchair and table are enough to cover the sight of Hiyori’s hand down in your shorts. “Mmpph!” 

 

But nothing is going to cover up that noise you just made from that delicious curl against your walls from his second and third fingers. A couple eyes have turned your way now, which means Hiyori’s hands are going to leave you soon. So you take desperate measures and shackle his wrist with your own begging hand to keep him there. Turning your head in to face Hiyori’s ear and partially hide your tortured expression from prying eyes, you whisper, “Please…” 

 

For what, you don’t really know, but Hiyori just chuckles that mischievous, sweet laugh of his. The one that he uses to hide his darker intentions. “Don’t worry, sweetie. You’ll get what you’ve been waiting for.” he makes a promise that sounds like it’s piled high with conditions. And then he slips something small between your folds before moving his hands away from you to sit in the chair across from you at the table. “If you’re good.” 

 

_ No… Don’t leave _ , your body screams out for him. You sit up and forward in begging desire for him to return to your side, to touch you, to whisper sweet threats into your ear again. But your silent pleas are only answered with that dishonestly sweet and bright smile as he leans one elbow on the table and his jaw in his hand. 

 

A buzzing starts inside of you, not of your own accord. The small device he had slipped inside of you earlier with his playful fingers has started up in a low, bothersome hum. It’s staggering, but not nearly enough, and you kind of wish it was pushed deeper inside of you, because all you can do is squirm with your lower lips hugging it. 

 

“I--” you stutter. “Hiyori…” 

 

He leans back and pulls his own book out to start reading leisurely, completely ignoring your dire need for him. “You can come now or later.” he simply says. 

 

You open your mouth to utter something, but you can’t find any words to reply. What would you possibly even say? It doesn’t look like he’s planning on leaving any time soon either. “But…” 

 

“But if you come now, that’s all you get for today.” He promises, threatens. 

 

You sit up straight, body still rod-stiff in desperation now that you’ve been thrown a bone. But as you watch him turn a page, you know you haven’t got a choice. If you come here and now, he’ll probably leave right after you finish. You stare at his relaxed, casual position in his chair; he’s completely put together, not a hair out of his place, and his glasses rest perfectly in place on his nose. You want to reach over and mess him up just a little bit, get revenge for leaving you to dry and crinkle for weeks only to play a new game and deprive you further. 

 

But all you actually say as you sink back into your chair is, “Okay.”

 

 


	3. terribly good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ikuya contemplates life and hiyori fucks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops, disappeared for the rest of the season. but even if s3 is over, Daddy Hiyori ain't going NOWHERE. no matter how strongly the fandom loves hiyo-chan ;;

_ ‘Additionally, this theme of redemption and second chances is encouraged and even preferred in literature through time, for all audiences. Children’s fairy tales have been drawn upon for inspiration in modern literature, and also served as useful references for the moral values of society throughout history. What people want to teach children is what is written into entertainment for them. Children’s stories like The Little Mermaid and The Adventures of Pinocchio that we’re still familiar with today are tweaked from their original versions that were published in the 19th century. Although the popular versions told in colorful modern day storybooks still imply great moral lessons, the ultimate theme of second chances are lost to time.  _

 

_ ‘Take, for example, the original Little Mermaid story written by Hans Christian Andersen, that had a more optimistic and almost miraculous ending for the Little Mermaid. Unlike in modern texts, in which the Little Mermaid melts into the ocean as sea foam after having failed to win the prince’s love, she is given a chance to earn her own soul by doing good deeds as a newborn daughter of air. Although retold as more of a tragic love story, it’s often forgotten that what the mermaid truly wished for was a human soul that would live on, even after death. Winning over the prince’s love was definitely a facet to her goal, but not the goal itself. And at the end of the original tale, when she chooses to let the prince live happily instead of preserving her own life, she is forgiven and given a gift of opportunity to earn her own soul that will live on.  _

 

_ ‘This miraculously opportune ending was often criticized and often reworked through time to have a more tragic conclusion to match its melancholic narrative, but the author’s preference for this ending shows that he wanted to use his influence to share a more positive theme: One of second chances and being able to try again if one makes the best choices for themselves. By being given the chance to earn a lasting soul, the Little Mermaid is able to continue towards her true goal. And this ending allows readers to interpret a more optimistic lesson, and encourages them to move forward rather than believe that all their hopes and dreams will dissolve like seafoam if they’re unable to achieve it once. The chance to continue moving forward is a theme that’s unmistakably important for youth and adults alike to learn, and Andersen likely chose this original ending to spread that very lesson.  _

 

_ ‘Furthermore, this concept can also be explored through Carlo Collodi’s--’ _

  
  


“Ikuya?” 

 

A knock at the door pulls the stoic boy’s attention away from the laptop screen. He quickly goes to open the door for his friend, who has made yet another unexpected visit. “Hiyori, what are you doing here?” 

 

“I wanted to drop off some food!” Ikuya’s bespectacled friend smiles with his two hands full of groceries. “You seemed kind of out of it today at practice, so I wanted to make sure you’re at least eating right.” 

 

“You’re worrying again.” Ikuya replies with his usual dismissiveness, “But thanks, I guess. Just relax for a bit, I’ll make us some tea. We can eat later.” 

 

“Sure thing.” Hiyori walks off into Ikuya’s room as he usually does. 

 

Once the hot water is boiled, Ikuya pours it into two cups that already have tea bags sitting in them. Hiyori chats on about the usual practice regime, times, and other team interactions, but Ikuya isn’t as tuned into the conversation as he usually is. 

 

He takes a seat on his desk chair rather than beside Hiyori on the couch, or within easier speaking distance on the bed. It’s rude, but Ikuya’s eyes keep flitting back to his computer screen, where document for your essay is still sitting open. 

 

“Oh? Classes got you working hard, Ikuya?” Hiyori tilts his head to spy on the bright screen.

 

“Not really. This isn’t mine.” Ikuya answers calmly, turning back to reread a few sentences of the section that caught his interest. 

 

“Hm? Then whose is it?” 

 

“That girl in my class that we met in the grocery market. She sent me her last assignment so I could take a look at it.” 

 

There’s a bout of silence that Ikuya doesn’t notice until he’s reread through the same two paragraphs again. But when he does eventually realize it, Ikuya turns back out in his chair to face his friend, “Hiyori? Something wrong?” 

 

“No, nothing.” His friend bounces back from his thoughtful gaze into his usual bright smile again, “Is her paper any good?” 

 

“Mmm…” Ikuya turns around in his chair once again to scroll through the document, “Well, I can see why she didn’t get full marks. She has good points, but her writing goes off tangent from her main purpose sometimes…” 

 

“Is that so…” Hiyori replies, sounding almost devoid of emotion. Not his usual cheerful shrug. But then again, Hiyori told him that he isn’t super close with you, so Ikuya supposes it’s a typical reaction. 

 

They both allow the silence to stretch on for another few moments, but Ikuya finds himself adding an additional comment as he scrolls up to the one section he’s reread several times over now, “But… It’s still kind of insightful.”

 

There’s a pause before Hiyori slowly asks, “About what?”

 

“Just… an interesting interpretation of the examples she uses.” Ikuya doesn’t know what to make of this interpretation himself. He’s always enjoyed and followed the plotline of the more modern version of  _ The Little Mermaid _ , the version that he’s been read most of his life. Applying it to his own life, even… And yet, you chose to reinterpret it from its roots. And it could easily take on an entirely new meaning to him. “Maybe I’ll ask her for advice…” Ikuya voices out before he realizes it. So quickly, he adds, “For the next assignment.” 

 

To Ikuya’s surprise, Hiyori stands and starts making his way to the door, “Sorry, Ikuya. I just remembered that there’s something I have to take care of at home, so I should get going.”

 

“Hm? Already?” Ikuya peels his eyes away from the laptop again. 

 

“Yeah, a shame.” He sighs as he shrugs on his coat, “But make sure to eat properly even if I’m not here, alright?” 

 

“I’ll be fine. Thanks for dropping by.” Ikuya says as he walks his friend to the door. 

 

“No problem. I’ll see you tomorrow at practice.” Hiyori leaves with a smile and a wave, although this one is a little more guarded. The weird smile he uses when he’s being more polite than usual. Ikuya wonders what’s got him so on guard and on his feet, but figures his friend can handle himself. 

 

He closes the door with a gentle click once his friend is down the staircase and out of sight.

  
  


*

  
  


The door to your room is slammed shut when Hiyori pushes you against it, towering over you with patient, calculating eyes. “You did pretty good in there. I’m impressed.” he praises with sharp, condescending eyes. 

 

You can only gasp in response when he slips a hand down between your legs to stroke at your folds through your thoroughly drenched panties. They’re so sensitive at this point that your hands jump to his shoulders to hold yourself up. “Ah!” you cry, the back of your head hitting the door as he finally pulls the small vibe out of you. 

 

He had left that thing inside of you for fucking  _ two hours _ . After arriving at the cafe, you both just sat there, pretending to be engrossed in your studies while Hiyori just played with all the different settings on the toy. You’d like to believe that none of the bystanders caught on to what was going on with all the random little squeaks and pained expressions you would make, however wishful that may be. 

 

“Hiyori…” you feel like you can finally breathe. And of course, the first thing you say when you can breathe again is the name of your captor, the one who had suffocated you in the first place. You test your agency in this situation by bringing a hand up to caress his face, slowly, affectionately even. “I need you… Please.” 

 

“Well listen to you, using your words.” His smile is still plastered on his face, pinned in place by his amusement and… disdain? A leg wedges its way between yours, “I thought that maybe I had already stolen your voice already.” 

 

A far cry from it. He could steal your breath away, your strength, even your dignity, but he always leaves your voice untouched in order to yank your screams and whines out from under him. “Please…” you plead once more, moving your thumb across the expanse of his cheek. What an unfairly beautiful face, you think as you lean up for a kiss. 

 

He lets you have your kiss for a few seconds, but he makes no move to reciprocate the pressure, which is killing you. You’ve worked hard, holding it in for not only the past two hours, but pushing the past month, waiting for him. As much as you begrudgingly love this edging game he plays, you really can only take so much. 

 

With another whisper of his name, you lean further into him to kiss harder, and to mount yourself on his thigh. “Uhn…” you whine when you start rubbing your sensitive cunt up and down on it, making the roll of your hips deep against the surface of his jeans so that your clit might get just a hint of more friction. 

 

Even when you have to pull away from a breath, you don’t want your lips away from him for even a second. You stay latched to his jaw, his neck, his collarbones, nipping and biting gently. He doesn’t appreciate it when you leave hickeys on him, but you’d like nothing more than to just suck at his skin hard enough to cause some internal bleeding. Show him how desperately you’ve been needing him by leaving a mark that takes as long to fade as how long he made you wait for him. 

 

“Alright, alright, take it easy,” Hiyori’s voice is almost soothing in tone when you brings his thumb over to rub your clit for you through your panties. “I should’ve known you’d be this close to the edge, but still… it never ceases to amaze me how wet you get whenever I leave you alone for a little while.” 

 

His comments and his thumb send electrical shocks up your spine and through your heart, numbing them with building pleasure. Maybe they fry your brain a little bit too, because everything outside of you riding Hiyori’s thigh to ram yourself against his thumb is incomprehensible. It’s so fucking good, how have you been away from this for so long-- 

 

“Ahh!” Hiyori’s thumb presses somewhere jolting that you didn’t even know could make your eyes roll so far back in your head. Your orgasm takes you by surprise at how sudden, yet powerful it was as it washed over you. God, you’re starting to think maybe sexually torturing and publicly humiliating yourself in one of your favorite establishments might have been worth it. 

 

Your pussy is throbbing in your shorts and your vision slowly returns to you as you ride out the ebbing remains of your peak on Hiyori’s strong thigh that’s managed to hold you up this entire time you’ve been fucking yourself on it. He’s just watching you rub your decency out of your body as you soak through your own shorts with your orgasm. You must be fucked up with how quickly you want to come again when you see that arrogant smirk on his face. 

 

Hiyori is completely aware of how backed up you’ve been without him for the past few weeks, and he  _ still  _ pushed you until only your heels were left on the edge with that vibe stunt. You’re used to him pretty much getting off on your pain and desperation for him, but he’s being awfully congenial in nature today by letting you come almost immediately after closing the door to your room. 

 

You would’ve been more used to or even would have expected him to continue teasing you after coming back to your dorm, so this is one of the most pleasant of surprises. As you continue to stare up at him with a likely fucked-out and needy look on your face, you can surmise from his expression that it’s going to get even better. 

 

“Alley-oop,” Hiyori grunts when he takes his hand away from your clit to pull your legs up and around his waist to carry you over to your bed. 

 

Your pleasure-hazed brain goes out of whack for a good few seconds at the change in perspective. Suddenly, Hiyori’s face isn’t immediately within your gaze and you’re only vaguely aware of how you reflexively clung to his shoulders with more strength than you knew you had left. But once you realize the position he’s taken with you in his arms, your heart swells a bit at the intimacy of his hold on you. 

 

“Mmph,” you bring your face down to meet his again in another kiss, “Hiyori…” 

 

He’s surprisingly gentle when he lays you down on your back atop your bed, and he continues to kiss you as he begins rolling his hips into the space between your legs. You’re practically salivating from the sensation of his hard-on forming against your sensitive cunt. Dear god, that bulge feels like it was made to fit against you… 

 

His kiss is as sensual as his hips this time, which breaks the wings in your heart open, getting ready to soar right out of your chest. His touch is softer, slower than usual, almost tender as he runs his hands up your thighs and underneath your shirt to grope at your breasts. Even the way he squeezes them is gentler than usual, like he’s trying to make you savor his touch, warning you not to get too used to being spoiled. 

 

It’s overloading you. From the soft press of his lips that seem to move so perfectly in sync with yours to the way his weight just ruts against your body to the way you can feel the heat gathering in his crotch against your drenched panties. You’re overwhelmed in the best way possible. 

 

With your legs still locked tight around his waist, you’re desperately humping back up against him in a pathetic chase towards some plane of release. Although you’re loathe to part from this sweet kiss for even a moment, you manage to pull away just enough to breath, “Hiyori… please… I can’t…” 

 

Funny, how you’re unable to even bring the words out and express your dire need for his body to destroy yours. “Want more?” he smiles down at you with that familiar teasing quirk to his lips. My god, how you’d love to kiss him again. 

 

“Yes, so much more…” you bring your hands up to caress his face, “I missed you, daddy…” 

 

“I can tell, princess.” He makes it a point to rub his length against your dripping opening, “You’ve been patient.”

 

You’re floored. He’s praising you on top of all the sweet touching? What has become of the world? You’re only left to wonder as he pushes your shirt up to bunch up above your breasts, but you’re swift in your aid to pull it off completely to throw it off to the side -- bra and all. 

 

The shorts and panties can’t come off fast enough after that. And as much as you love a naked Hiyori, you can’t be bothered to wait for him to do much more than unzip his jeans and pull them halfway down his thighs. Once your eyes meet that beautiful, hard cock that you’ve been dreaming about sucking for weeks, you cage it with your legs around Hiyori’s waist and pull him flush against you. 

 

“Agh…” you groan. Your entire core is stunted in hypersensitivity from the constant stimulation of the past two hours from the cafe to the walk here. It’s like you can feel a pop sparking with every neurotransmitter that passes through any synapse of your body. Even the sensation of Hiyori’s hard flesh simply lined up against your slit is enough to make your body shiver from your spine through to every one of your limbs. “Oh, daddy.” you whine, pulling his face down for another kiss. 

 

Another surprise to you, he foregoes a lot of dirty talk this time, in favor of just rutting benevolently against your folds. It’s so, so good, that hot flesh rubbing against your wet, bloated skin. Your body begs for him, electrocutes you in an angry demand for you to bring him inside you. Right now.  _ Right. Now. _

 

Unable to hold out for another second, you test the limits of your control again, wondering how much Hiyori will let you get away with tonight. Your hand easily finds a grip on the base of his cock, and you give it a few strokes with your fingers before bring him up to center against your entrance. “Daddy, can I…?” Out of habit, you ask for permission, because even if he’s spoiling you a bit tonight, you don’t want to get too ahead of yourself lest he decides to hold this against you in the future. 

 

“Sure.” He answers, as if you had asked him if you could have some extra napkins. But any affirmative answer is a go to you, so you waste not a second longer pushing him in between your folds to guide him deeper, deeper inside of you. You want him so deep inside that he needs a map to find his way out. 

 

Your legs wrap tighter around his hips to pull him closer still, and to trap him inside of you. “Oh my god…” you breathe into the ceiling. This feeling is unmatched, this complete fullness you feel. Your walls throb around his hot shaft and you bask in this wondrous, beautiful, splendor of having Hiyori back inside of you. 

 

With your arms looped around his shoulders and your legs holding his body fastened to yours, you think about how you could very well live the rest of your life warming Hiyori’s cock for him. If he would hold you in his arms like he did earlier when he carried you from the door to your bed, you’d probably spend the rest of your days smiling like an idiot. This gentle, affectionate sex is so sweet, it’s almost cruel. 

 

But you’ll be damned if you don’t savor it while you can. “Hiyori, fuck me.” It’s structured as a demand but comes out as a plea. Surprise, surprise, how your voice and body display the true nature of your desire. 

 

“Anything you want, beautiful.” He offers a half smile that suggests he’s only here to do you favor, even though you can practically feel Hiyori’s cock twitch inside you when you give him a bewildered, dreamy look. 

 

Finally, he gives your anxious hips a break from your desperate, hurried thrusts up into him by anchoring his hands on them. He pulls away from your chest to stand up straight, a much more practical position to plow you into your bed, though you lament the loss of his torso in your arms and against your chest. 

 

He doesn’t even start slow, just jackhammers his cock in and out of your wet cunt like he’s trying to dig for diamonds, only slowing on occasion when he slips out in his haste and has to line his cock back into you. Every moment that he isn’t inside you feels like you’ve lost something, no matter how short the second between each of his thrusts. Each and every particle of time that Hiyori’s body is separated from yours feels charged with emptiness. A tension that you can’t relieve or fulfill on your own. 

 

You need him here. You need him, with you. “Ah! Hiyori! Oh my god!” 

 

It doesn’t take long for you to come again, considering all of your nerves are still shot and wound up from that toy that was inside you. But with each orgasm that Hiyori slams you into, you feel them start to unwind in a satisfyingly violent crash. Your body is left shuddering in his wake and you can’t stop the aftershocks of mini-orgasms that follow as Hiyori continues to fuck you into his own peak. 

 

You manage to come again, twice, before Hiyori releases inside of you. Which is yet another pleasant surprise, feeling him spread and coat your walls from the inside. He knows you’re on birth control, but he still usually pulls all the stops anyway. Sometimes he’d make it a game to see how long you could hold out while he opens and puts on a condom. Or he has you beg to come inside of you, only to make you cry when he pulls out to spill himself on your back or stomach anyway. 

 

Today, though, he’s really making up for all the weeks you’ve gone through without him. If you’re wishful, you could hope that maybe he’s been wanting you as much as you’ve been craving him? Hiyori sure is thorough with the extra rounds he fucks and goes down on you, and you’re wondering if the holidays have come early this year. 

 

Still, in the afterglow of all your orgasms and Hiyori’s attention, you continue to wonder: what is with the princess treatment today? Did you do something to deserve this? Is he just in a weird mood? Should you look forward to getting used to this or expect this not to happen again? 

 

Even as your blissed out mind and boneless body try to make sense of this taste of heaven you’ve sampled, you can’t stop the embarrassingly giddy smile from spreading across your face. To save yourself the teasing, you turn to the direction opposite of where Hiyori lies on your bed, catching his breath. 

 

But in a beat, he catches you, “What’re you trying to hide from me?” 

 

You should’ve known you couldn’t get away with it. But you kind of relish in the way Hiyori pulls you by the chin to face him again. Even though you try pressing your lips together to vanquish the smile, the corners are still quirked up and your blush is still warm on your cheeks. 

 

“Ah,” Hiyori chuckles once, “Are you that happy?” he leans in to your ear to whisper, “That you finally get your fill of cock?” 

 

His breath against your ear sends shivers through your overstimulated body, and his condescending voice has you turning on your side to face him, eager for more even though you’re exhausted out of commission. “You love my cock that much?”

 

There’s a pause that indicates he wants an answer, so you breathe a weak, “Yes.” 

 

“Yeah? You’d do anything to have it again?” 

 

“Absolutely anything.” you look up into his eyes, blinking fervently as if that’ll convince him somehow. 

 

“Good.” He smirks, and pulls your chin up as he leans down for a kiss. 

 

Lord, you really have tasted the nectar of heaven. 

 

“Be sure not to bother Ikuya again.” He says with strikingly hard eyes before getting up and retrieving his clothes. 

 

“Eh?” Your eyebrows furrow. Ikuya? Who--

 

Wait, does he mean his friend? The one who asked for your essay in the ice cream section? Come to think of it, you had sent him your essay like he asked almost a week ago. 

 

Your attempt to sit up is slowed by your sensitive limbs and core, but you manage to hold yourself upright on your bed with some effort. However, Hiyori seems to have already redressed himself into the proper student that he is. “Wait, Hiyori, what do you mean about…” 

 

“Figure it out, princess. It’s not rocket science.” He fixes his collar and his bag over his shoulder before heading to your door, “Goodnight.” 

 

His smile is sickly, ingenuine, cruel. Everything that should repulse you but makes your chest flush deeply in excitement. The click of your door closing is as ominous as ever, but the buffer of all the flowers blooming in your delusional heart convince you that it’ll be fine. 

 

Just do as he says. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can u believe i had to write a first year uni level essay just to have hiyori get some ass 
> 
>  
> 
> [tumblr](http://blushinggray.tumblr.com/)


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